


This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

by thefairfleming



Series: The HOA AU [3]
Category: The White Princess (TV)
Genre: F/M, crackety crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 00:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefairfleming/pseuds/thefairfleming
Summary: Another entry into this Highly Specific Suburban AU For Which I Feel Zero Shame.





	This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

He’s not surprised about the revenge part. Henry had known that was coming as soon as they’d gotten the letter from the HOA, telling them their rose bushes needed to be trimmed back to “better fit in with the neighborhood aesthetic.”

Lizzie was proud of those roses, the one gardening project she’d taken on, and since they’d both known it was Karen across the street who’d complained, Henry had figured it was only a matter of time before Lizzie fired a return salvo.

What he  _ hadn’t _ expected was to look out the kitchen window at 5:30 in the morning and see his wife jamming the world’s tackiest lawn ornaments into Karen’s lawn. Flamingos, pinwheels, plastic daisies...he wasn’t even sure where Lizzie had gotten all of them, but there she was, in her pajamas, turning Karen’s lawn into some sort of trailer park nightmare.

For a moment, Henry had considered going out to stop her, but in the end, he’d decided that might cause even more of a scene, and besides, he was curious to see just where she was going with it.

So when she comes back in, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, he’s still fiddling with the coffee pot in his bathrobe. “Bit early for scorched earth, isn’t it?” he asks mildly.

Striding past him, already stripping off her own robe and tossing it on the breakfast nook table, Lizzie snorts. “Hardly. Early bird gets the bitch and all that.”

“Is that the saying?”

“It is now.”

She plants herself in front of the sink, looking out the same window Henry had been watching her from, and he abandons the coffee pot to study her.

She’s wearing that pajama set he particularly likes, the white silk one with the little shorts and matching camisole, and when she rises up briefly on her toes to peer more closely at her handiwork, the silk rides up the curve of her backside in a way that makes his fingers itch to touch her. 

Walking up behind her, Henry slides an arm around her waist, his chin dropping to her shoulder.

“It’s probably horribly pervy to find you this hot when you do this kind of thing.”

She laughs a little, pressing her hips back against him, and Henry sucks in a breath. “Lucky for you, I like horribly pervy.”

With a lead in like that, he can’t resist, and he lets the hand that was flirting with the edge of her camisole dip beneath the waistband of her shorts.

Now it’s her turn to gasp, her fingers tightening on the sink in front of her as he touches her. 

“I can tell,” he murmurs low in her ear, and she shivers, apparently forgetting about watching for Karen. Her head is tipped back, eyes closed, lips parted, and Henry grins against her neck before setting himself to the task of making her come.

One hand between her legs, the other sliding under her camisole to tease and tug at her nipples, Henry keeps her body tight against him, her hips moving, her own hand clutched around his wrist. 

“Mmm, don’t stop,” she breathes, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss just behind her ear.

“Have I ever?”

They both know the answer to that. Henry learned early on that Lizzie’s body had to be won before her heart or mind could follow, and he’d been more than willing to go along with that. 

But he’s still not used to it, the idea that this magnificent woman is  _ his _ , that she wants him just as badly as he wants her, that he can touch her like this right there in their kitchen before six in the morning and feel her wet and hot underneath his fingers.

She’s close now, her breath coming faster, both hands back against the edge of the sink now. She’s still got her head back and eyes closed, and when Henry glances towards the window just as Karen comes outside, mouth open and face red, he wonders if he should stop.

But no, Lizzie told him not to, so he won’t. Instead, he keeps his fingers moving over her and mutters against her shoulder, “Karen is fucking livid, love.”

“Oh, fuck Karen,” Lizzie breathes before reaching behind her, curling an arm around the back of his neck. She tilts her face so that he can kiss her, and despite the awkward angle, Henry kisses her back.

She comes then, her mouth pressed to his even as she whimpers and shakes, and when he slides his hand from her shorts, Lizzie turns to press herself fully against him, kissing him even more deeply.

“Upstairs,” she says when they part, her eyes glassy, pupils huge. “Now.”

“I’ll be late for work,” Henry replies. “ _ Again _ .” But he lets her take his hand and drag him along all the same. 


End file.
